Out, Standing In Her Field

A Cause: Rebels gain a virtual foothold

Okay, anybody who’s taken the time to scroll down my sidebar a bit will see an icon for Second Life. I have succumbed to the lure of a virtual life in which I can look any way I want, and fly, and teleport great distances to attend concerts, take courses in Buddhism, hob-nob with people from all over the world and generally carry on in a way that I wouldn’t — or couldn’t — in Real Life.

The “Revolution” mentioned in this article, is, in fact, old news, and compromises have been worked out. There is corporate presence in Second Life, but I haven’t noticed it unduly disrupting my experience. One has to seek it out; The Weather Channel has it’s own Island — all set up to offer virtual surfing, snowboarding and mountain biking experiences to support their series “Extreme Conditions.” I went surfing: I can’t do that in Real Life. Come to think of it, I’m not much of a virtual surfer either.

But Linden Labs is setting up new “land” all the time, and if you’re quick, just as in the real world, you can get in on the ground floor, even make a few bucks selling or leasing your virtual real estate empire. Or, you can rent, or just squat at a Welcome center. Land owning is for the truly dedicated; it’s not a prerequisite for enjoying oneself in Second Life. Besides, if you own land, you have to pay property taxes….

The population statistics given in the article are only half the story. Sure, there are 2.5 million (and counting) accounts on the Grid, but not everyone logs in simultaneously. The online population seems to vary between 25-40 thousand at a time. Some people signed up for accounts and don’t use them. Furthermore, since this is an international thing, the online population varies with time zone; as one zone logs off and goes to bed, there’s a lull as a new zone wakes up and logs on. On top of everything else, some people have more than one account. I have two, one for a female avatar and one for a male, but I can’t use both accounts at the same time.

As for the non-paying population putting an undue load on the grid without returning anything, that’s a load of cyber-poop. We (I’m one of those free-loaders) still manage to put money into the economy, build things, and contribute to the sum of world knowledge. Charity is high; as one generation of newbies gets integrated, they pass on their knowledge and Linden Dollars to the next generation. Those with freebie accounts will either upgrade if they are truly enjoying the experience, or will log out one day and never return.

So, maybe I don’t get what the so-called revolution was about. Does it matter, in the long run, if the real estate companies are making all the big money? I can’t afford a home of my own in real life, either: I don’t expect my landlord to give up his business so that I can. And, I’m certainly not in Second Life to earn a living, never mind a great fortune; I’m just there to get out of myself, be in a community and have fun.

The folks who worry about corporate oppression just have to remember America Online’s eventual fate. Once AOL stopped allowing user-created content, and sold out to the big corporations, the users start drifting away. Now, AOL is just another bump on the information super-highway.

And, yes… there really was an invasion of giant cocks.

Update: I went back to the Second Life website to check my stats. The number of accounts is in excess of 5 million, 1.6 million of whom have logged on in the past 60 days (doesn’t say if those are unique log-ons) and over 250 thousand US dollars have changed hands in the past 24 hours. Pretty good for a non-real country…

I’ve been admonished to blog more often, in spite of the fact that my life is generally pretty boring, and I’m plum of of political outrage at the moment. I haven’t even got up the get-go to follow the cat around with the camera…

Speaking of whom…

Some months ago I posted a picture of a young cat who came to visit. Attempts to return her to her owners were a failure: even time we’d send her back, she’d bolt and wind up on our balcony again. Once she even persuaded someone to let her into the building and we found her howling on the doorstep. That’ll teach us to try to deny her.

So, now her name is Kaylee, and she’s costing us a fortune in cat food.

Of course, the last time she got away from her former owners (before everybody gave up and decided that here was where she was bound and determined to be), she was in the midst of a round of major cat-crazies. It soon became apparent that she was, that is, is pregnant. The vet I talked to about getting her repaired, post haste, refused. Something about the surgery being more difficult, or some other bullshit. Never mind there’s a population explosion going on, cat-wise, we simply can’t abort the wee mites…

Fine. So now I have this hugely pregnant cat, really hardly more than a kitten herself. She’s not taking this gracefully; she’s quite annoyed that she can’t shinny up the curtains any more, and she demands to be fed twice as much as any normal cat could consume. Eating for two — or maybe half a dozen — I suppose.

I’ve never attended a cat-birth before. I have no idea what to expect. The only cat care book in my possession, The Natural Cat, has only one thing to say on the subject: prevent your cat from becoming pregnant. She author doesn’t seem to care or acknowledge that sometimes accidents happen, or you may actually be breeding cats, or you acquire a cat already in that state, and maybe some advice might be in order. Grumph…

Anyway… I’m not 100% sure how far along she is — other than she looks like she’s swallowed a basketball. Could be today, or a couple of weeks. She allowed me to place my hand on her belly last night, and I felt the kittens move. However, she has not started looking for a nest, and shows no interest at the boxes I’ve set up for her in various closets. I suppose she’ll have ‘em in the middle of my bed…

The Social Security Administration finally decided that I am gimpy enough to qualify for disability benefits. It took less than 9 months which is, from what I’ve heard, some kind of speed record. Just in time though; it wasn’t going to be too long before I dropped off the edge of the world.

So, in the fullness of time, the SSA (which seems to be ASS spelled backwards, but I’m reserving judgment on their performance for now) has sent me the lump sum for all the payments I would have been due if they had been able to process my application within the 5-month waiting period. Not an enormous sum, but it is enough to do something I’ve wanted to do for several years now:

Upgrade my computer.

Well, actually, replace my computer entirely. Poor ol’ Nellie ain’t got the giddiup to handle my favorite programs, particularly the latest and greatest versions. More bloatware, but the images they produce may actually be worth the overhead.

So, I did the research, and got on the phone to Dell. It’s been almost 7 years since I’ve had to buy a computer, and the selection of options are mind-boggling. I’m very easily boggled these days. Dell’s award-winning website just made matters worse; I had a very specific list of requirements that had to be met in order to run Bryce 6 and Poser 7, and looking at the choices of processors left me scratching my head. It doesn’t say 1 gHz anywhere. Fast clock speeds are wicked important for 3D rendering. I had to talk to a person, preferable someone with the specs in front of them.

After wending my way through Dell’s phone menus, I finally hooked up with a nice, young man who guided me through the purchase. Dell declined my line of credit, which I sort assumed they would, but I had other options for payment. I’ve waited quite a while to be able to make such a purchase, another two weeks (give or take) is no big deal. It’s going to be cash up front.

By the time we actually made it all the way through the ordering process, I was hyped out of my head. He pushed the button and the order (or, in my case, the quote) was in the pipe.

Five seconds after I’d hung up the phone, maybe less, I realized that the rep hadn’t given me the total amount. How the heck was I supposed to write a check? I dialed again, only to be informed that I had reached Dell after business hours. Huh? Dialed again, navigated through the menus pushed “0″ a couple of times and got a customer service rep. She couldn’t find the quote on her system, because it hadn’t gone through yet.

Uh… OK, I’ll give that it might take a bit for the order data to become available for viewing, but it took me at least 15 minutes to get to the rep. Surely, Dell-Corps computers aren’t that pokey. I suspect my rep was somewhere off-shore, but I wasn’t rude enough (or interested enough) to ask. She opened a trouble ticket and sent me an email. (Odd — the guy who took my order didn’t ask for my email address. Rookies!)

Hung up. Went through Dell Menu Hell again. Got a different rep and the same story. However, this girl spent some time poking keys and conferring with her manager, and eventually she transferred me back to sales. The girl in sales was able to pull up my order, we went over all of it again, got addresses, yada yada, and finally I got the grand total of my order so I could, at last, after 45 minutes of farting around, write the damned check! I also got a new quotation# and a new rep ID; sales person #2 will get credit for the sale. Sorry, bubba, Ya gotta pay attention.

Now I get to say: “The check is in the mail!” And, this time I really mean it.

Oh, yeah… I wanted to get Windows XP installed on my new computer, as it seemed to be a requirement to run my programs. Nope. Can’t get it. Gotta settle for Windows Vista. I’m leery about anything new coming out of Micro$oft (Who isn’t?), but allegedly the Big M has repaired all the leaks.

I guess I’m going to be a guinea pig. Light a candle (or tease a neo-con) for me.
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Update: Apparently, no one had a clue about my order after all. Called Dell yet again on Wednesday, and after the usual run-around, got to the sales dept. The Sales Rep found the quote; we both came to the conclusion that the best thing to do was to put a stop payment on the check, and re-do the order, this time paying for it through my debit card. No one mentioned that that was a possiblity the first time around. Furthermore, Sales Rep #3 found me a promotion that saved me a few bucks.

Now my order appears in my account on the Dell website, and I can track its progress. As of this morning. it’s in production with an estimated shipping date of 2/8. O.M.Gs

Oprahs school for girls opens Tuesday - CNN.com

Oprah Winfrey is so rich, she can do just about anything she wants to — and frequently gets lots of publicity doing so. Her Leadership Academy for Girls in South Africa is one of her best ideas yet, and has garnered a great deal of attention. This attention will feed back into more donations and support, and make the school an even bigger success.

Last March, ABC’s Good Morning America did a story on Greg Mortenson and his mission to build schools in the wilds of Central Asia. I haven’t heard a peep about his efforts amidst the brouhaha about Oprah, and I think that’s a sad thing. The Central Asia Institute doesn’t have a big celebrity’s deep pockets behind it, and depends mostly on much smaller donations, many of which come from American school children who do “penny drives” in their communities. This effort is at least as important as Oprah’s, and goes far beyond just educating a few girls. It also goes forth in a part of the world which is notably more dangerous.

So, I encourage all my readers to make even a small donation to the Central Asia Institute again this year. It certainly wouldn’t hurt, and it would probably do some good.

Reesie came back.

I tried to take her home, but she was not well-pleased; she fought and struggled, and finally gave me such a whack in the face hissing and spitting all the while.

Her people were not at home, but a large tuxedo cat was sitting on the doorstep. Reesie seemed terrified of him. The second I put her down, she high-tailed it (literally) back across the parking lot — towards my apartment.

So, what to do? I went down to the office and got the people’s contact information. I will call them later in the afternoon and inform them that their cat is here, and that’s she’s afraid to go home. If they can’t keep her inside (and they obviously have at least one toddler — the terror of many a cat), then the next time I find her on the balcony, I’m taking her to a shelter so that she can find a home where they will take proper care of her.

Naturally, I won’t tell them where that shelter is….

I’ve seen this kitten wandering around the building for a while, and have caught her up on my balcony a couple of times.

It was cold and snowy today, so I opened the door, and she came right in. Didn’t want to go back out again, either. I’m putting up posters in hopes that her owners will come and pick her up.

Well, not so much a hope. I’d love to keep her, but…

I stopped being the “Cat Woman of Woodland Heights” some years ago because it was too hard to part with my rescues. This one will be hard unless her people come for her; I’ve missed Jessica way too much.

Update: Her name is Reesie. Her people called this morning and came to get her. Seems they have a hard time keeping their cats inside. I suspect that Reesie likes being an only cat, and will probably be back to visit….

Today has been like other Christmases here lately: uneventful. Quiet, even. It also seems to have arrived whole and undimmed — in spite of the evil plotting of those all-powerful Secular Humanists and other liberal groups who, rumor has it, want to abolish Christmas altogether.

Being Pagan does have it’s upside, holiday-wise. Since I don’t celebrate the day, I don’t feel compelled to run around like a crazy woman for the six weeks before the holiday spending money I don’t have on gifts that won’t be appreciated by people I don’t like anyway. If I give gifts, it’s generally for a non-occasion, or just because I want to, not because society has guilt-tripped me into it. The Winter Solstice can be a gift-giving occasion, but it’s not mandatory.

So, looking at Christmas from the outside makes me pause and wonder what all the fuss is about. I do remember what it was like while I was still (nominally) Christian, and I recall the stress of shopping (I’ve never been overly fond of shopping), and the interminable boredom of spending most of Christmas Day at the home of friends of my parents when I would rather have been at home playing with my new toys. Later, after I had gone out on my own, I still “celebrated” which general involved rising before dawn to drive the 50 miles to my parents home to watch my brother’s kids open their gifts, and then spend the rest of the afternoon watching a movie on TV.

::Yawn::

I promised myself that I would just bag the Christmas thing after my parents passed on, but then I met the Professor, and went through the same rise-too-early-and-drive-all-over-the-place routine with his relatives. At least the Professor’s Mom enjoyed our company and actually made conversation instead of plunking us in front of some dumb video.

The “Reason for the Season” was not mentioned anywhere in any of these celebrations. We didn’t usually go to Mass Christmas morning when I was a kid, and my in-laws generally take care of the church-going on Christmas Eve. It was never a religious holiday, just a reason to eat too much and feel guilty.

Since Madelyn crossed over, I’ve been firm about not going out on Christmas Day. I’m pretty sure no one in the family missed me (although they frequently complain that they miss the Professor — but he won’t go without me). I had my serene Solstice celebration on the 21st and it was more spiritual than all the Christmases past.

Of course, I ate too much, but I didn’t feel guilty at all.

PS: Hope you had a Merry Christmas, anyway.

Bryan, you’ve hexed me.

We’ve been talking about winter holiday decorations and southern fast food over at Why Now? and the subject of Cracker Barrel restaurants came up.

The Professor’s niece got married this afternoon to a young man apparently of Southern extraction. The decorations in the reception hall were a “Christmas” theme, yanno that Pagan stuff of trees and greenery. But, you’ll never guess what was on the menu besides the usual chicken n’ peas served at these affairs.

Oh, maybe you will.

That’s right. Chicken-fried steak with cream gravy.

Pretty good, actually, although I don’t think I could make a steady diet of it…

…A word from our sponsors.

Okay, so I installed a Google AdSense banner. I figured, even a couple of clicks a month will help pay for the site.

However, since the spiders haven’t crawled the site yet, some of the ads newly installed ads are a bit odd — like the one for John McCain’s Presidential Exploratory Committee.

I guess they can’t tell I’m a Democrat; all they see are the references to the Republicons.

My Great-Aunt Annie, the woman for whom I was named, crossed over Tuesday morning. I’m not sure of her age, but it had to have been on the high end of 90. I can’t be sad, because I know she lived a long and good life, but something will now be missing from my life.

My main regret is that I hadn’t seen her in at least 30 years: Life and poverty always intrude. For now, this will be my little memorial.

From one Annie to another, have peace, and say “Hi!” to my mom when you see her.